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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29418699">Stuffing and Fats</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zumberge/pseuds/Zumberge'>Zumberge</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>BBW, Belly Expansion, Binge Drinking, Dubious Science, Gen, Immobility, Stuffing, Vampires, Weight Gain, ssbbw</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 12:14:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,044</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29418699</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zumberge/pseuds/Zumberge</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A repository for old stories featuring the over-consumption of food and drink and the results thereof.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Binge (belly)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Riley was a young woman whose life was seemingly defined by "a little more."  Compared to other redheads her hair was a little more red and she had a little more freckles.  She was a little taller, had a little more muscle, and at the same time a little more padding, usually where it mattered but often where it didn't.  When not working or studying she ate a little more, not out of greed or gluttony, but simply as her nature.  Attributing malice to it would be akin to attributing malice to a hunting bird or the tides.</p>
<p>So it was, ultimately, only natural and to be expected that she would eventually find herself at a party in a sorority house, itself home to certain excesses.</p>
<p>"So." Riley dropped onto the couch, putting her arms up on the sides and crossing her legs. "What's it take to join Kappa Sigma Chi?"</p>
<p>Claire gestured. "Well, we did have our own special hazing ritual, but we had to stop after we lost our last house, so we've gone back to binge drinking."</p>
<p>"That's fine.  Binge drinking never hurt anyone."</p>
<p>"Right, sure.  So, what'll you have?  There's everclear, wine coolers, a few kegs..."</p>
<p>"Do you have any stout?"</p>
<p>Claire thought for a second before turning to one of the other young women. "Do we?"</p>
<p>She shrugged. "I'unno.  There's probably a ton in that fridge downstairs.  We won it in a contest but nobody bothered drinking it."</p>
<p>"Go check."</p>
<p>Riley relaxed, waiting patiently for a few moments.  The young woman returned with two twelve packs in hand, and there was the clanking of glass as she set the cardboard packages roughly on the table beside her.  Riley removed one of the bottles, turning it over in her hand to inspect the label. "Good."</p>
<p>Claire said, "let me get you a bottle op-" She was cut short by a pop and the fizz of escaping gas as Riley casually wrenched the top off with her bare hand and raised the bottle to her lips.  To say she drank it would understate the sheer speed at which the liquid poured down her throat, and to say she chugged it would indicate a certain gracelessness to the gesture.  As it stood, she drained the beer down her throat in a matter of seconds, replacing it in the package. "Or you could do that."</p>
<p>"Keep 'em coming," she said, removing a second.</p>
<p>"There's twenty-four bottles here."</p>
<p>"I know, keep 'em coming."</p>
<p>She looked over at Claire, who shrugged helplessly, before turning and leaving again.</p>
<p>Riley drank in a steady rhythm, bottles of beer sliding down her throat one after another with no sign of hesitation.  Bit by bit her trim stomach began to show the results of her binge, pushing her shirt outward.  By the time the first package was finished she had a soft, round gut poking out from beneath the hem of her clothes, a band of flesh with a navel sunk into it.  She reached down, unbuttoning her jeans, letting her belly force the zipper open in its search for room.</p>
<p>Claire's friend appeared again, dropping off two more packages on the table.  Riley removed another bottle, cracking it open as the girl stared.  As she tilted it up their eyes met, and the girl looked away, taking the empties with her.  Shrugging, she resumed drinking.</p>
<p>As time wore on and more bottles were drained, Riley's gut became more pronounced as it filled with stout.  Casually slumped on the couch as she was, it spilled between her legs as it grew larger, filling her lap more and more.  This did not escape the notice of other party-goers, some of whom tried their best to gawk at her without looking like they were.  By the time she was finishing the fourth twelve-pack newcomers were asking others if she was pregnant.  She certainly looked it to the untrained eye, but her belly was softer and more teardrop-shaped.</p>
<p>As Riley replaced the last bottle, Claire entered the room, stopping dead in her tracks upon seeing the swollen newcomer. "Are... are you okay?"</p>
<p>"Yeah, I'm..." Riley frowned, pressing both hands against the sides of her stomach.  Her belly churned and gurgled, swelling outward as the stout inside of her fizzed and bubbled, rapidly taking up the entirety of her lap.  Her skin seemed to ripple and vibrate, and just as Claire began to fear that she would burst, Riley opened her mouth and let out a long, ear-splitting belch, her stomach shrinking down almost, but not quite, to its previous size.  The ambient noise in the sorority lowered as its inhabitants went quiet in stunned silence, picking up their conversations again after a few seconds. "I'm fine."</p>
<p>"You don't feel... sick or anything, do you?"</p>
<p>She thought for a second. "Got a little bit of a buzz.  So, am I in?"</p>
<p>"Uh... yeah, sure."</p>
<p>"Great." She raised her legs and, with a grunt, turned and laid down on the couch, her bloated belly looming over her body. "I'm just going to crash here for the night." She put her hands behind her head, glanced over at Claire and did a double take, her eyes following another young woman as she wheeled a keg past. "Hold it," she said, pointing. "Are you going to finish that?"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Vampiress (belly, wg, bbw)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Raven Dellamort was not what people suspected she was.</p>
<p>To begin with, her name wasn't Raven Dellamort; it was Juliet Schlesinger.  This was a secret, one kept poorly in fact, as it was on the lease and packages and deliveries were in her name.  Whenever it came up she expressed obvious disapproval, rolling her eyes as she sighed and marked her given name down on the paperwork before handing it back.  When on the floor of her nightclub she refused to answer to it, making a big show of ignoring people who addressed her by the "wrong" name.</p>
<p>Secondly, she was a vampire.  This was an incredibly poorly-kept secret to the point where people either knew or felt like an idiot when they were told about it.  She was never seen in anything but tight leather pants, a short halter top, and fishnets, all black; despite her numerous piercings and jewelry she abhorred silver; no mirrors were to be found anywhere on the club floor; of the food it served, none of it contained garlic; she was never seen out in the daytime; and she never drank alcohol, or anything for that matter.  People did offer her their blood, either as a joke or out of genuine Carmillan interest, but she simply waved them off with a "not here."  A scant few people raised concerns over her manner and what it meant for the people of the city, but cooler heads prevailed, reasoning that anyone who needed to try -that- hard and -that- blatantly to be a vampire could not actually be one.</p>
<p>Except that she -was- a vampire.</p>
<p>Specifically, a vampire pretending to be not a vampire, who was pretending very hard to be a vampire.</p>
<p>It was quite complicated.</p>
<p>One night, when working in her office overlooking the club floor, Raven felt the pangs of hunger.  She did not need to eat frequently, but she needed to eat nonetheless.  She set her pen down and stood, walking over to the darkened pane of glass that gave her a view of the club below.  It was still early, a busy night, and on top of that she had work to do, so slipping out for a bite wasn't an option.  She sighed in frustration, listening to the thumping of the techno and watching the crowd below move in time to the beat, charming young men and women full of clean, pure blood mingling and-</p>
<p>Raven tapped her forehead, chiding herself for not thinking of it sooner.  Leaving her office she headed downstairs, through the hallway and out a door labeled "MANAGER."  Putting on her usual mysterious air she stood at the edge of the bar, watching the people and waiting for one of them to inevitably make their move.</p>
<p>She didn't have to wait long, as within minutes she was approached by a slightly tipsy young woman who was trying nearly as hard to look like a vampire as Raven.  She pulled down her collar and tilted her head to the side, exposing her neck. "Hey," she said breathily. "Wanna bite?"</p>
<p>"If you're offering."</p>
<p>She stared at Raven for a second before slowly smiling and giggling. "Okay, cool.  You gotta eat sometime, right?"</p>
<p>"Of course." She gestured towards the door. "Follow me."</p>
<p>Raven lead her through the door, down the hall and into a luxurious private bedroom.  The woman gawked at the room as she entered. "Wow," the woman said.</p>
<p>"I save this room for the use of more esteemed clientele." Raven took her hand in hers, sliding the other arm around her waist. "But I'm not expecting anyone, so it's all ours."</p>
<p>The woman laughed nervously before any traces of resistance melted away in her embrace, and she inclined her head.  Raven leaned in and ran her tongue along her teeth, canines elongating before she sank them into her neck.  The woman let out a quiet gasp that trailed off into a moan as the vampire fed, lapping the tantalizingly fresh blood from her veins.  She would have fed until she fainted and called it a night, as she normally did, but she had different plans tonight.</p>
<p>Raven pulled away, rubbing a thumb across her bite marks and using a bit of basic vicissitude to heal them before locking eyes with the woman.  Her expression went blank; between the loss of blood and the alcohol, dominating her mind was child's play. "Invite your friends in," she commanded, "and enjoy yourself tonight, but once you return home, you will remember nothing of our tryst."</p>
<p>She nodded numbly, staring at Raven as the vampire took a step back and released her from her grasp.  Blinking, she shook her head, clearing out the cobwebs before smiling at Raven. "You know what?  I need to invite my friends."  She pointed back towards the door. "Do you mind if I...?"</p>
<p>"Of course.  But one at a time."</p>
<p>"Great!  I'll be right back."</p>
<p>Eat, entrance, exit, invite.  The process continued itself, going off without a hitch, much to the delight and relief of Raven who, for the first time in ages, was able to eat to her heart's desire.  However, to her consternation, the results of her feast became gradually more apparent.  Her exposed midriff grew, sticking out over the front and sides of her belt first as a modest muffin top, then as a soft beer belly.  Eventually it became so distracting to newcomers that she was forced to hypnotize them first lest they ask too many questions or suspect something.</p>
<p>The thought that she was taking it too far never entered Raven's mind, even as she glutted herself on blood to the point where she was forced to remove her belt and undo her pants, pulling them down an inch or two so she could stand comfortably.  It was a temporary solution at best, and eventually she found herself having to deal with a plush gut that stuck out over a foot in front of her, hanging low on her frame, her navel sunk deeply into the front.  It was cumbersome to bite people with it in the way, so she made use of the bed, propping herself up on it and having her meals come over to hear.</p>
<p>So the hours passed, and she ate, and ate, and as she did she grew, and grew.  As the last of the club-goers left the bedroom and the hired help closed the front doors she was positively swollen: Her belly took up most of the space between her legs, forcing them apart and rising to the height of her bent knees.  There was a faint tinge of red to her skin, though whether from the contents or simply being stretched so large, none could say.  Standing up was an impossibility, so Raven made do, enjoying the taste of blood on her lips and its warmth in her distended stomach.  She gave her gut a pat, sending a ripple across its surface. "I should do this more often."</p>
<p> </p>
<p>*****</p>
<p> </p>
<p>The change that undertook Raven Dellamort - AKA Juliet Schlesinger - in the following month was dramatic.  She had ballooned - there was really no other word for such a dramatic increase in weight.  She swayed about on trunk-like legs, and her old pants would only cover a fraction of her absurdly thick thighs, now more around than her old waist.  The size of her backside was such that sitting in chairs with arms was nearly impossible, though sitting in -a- chair was also quite a challenge, as she was wide enough to take up two of them.  She had given up wearing rings, as her heavy arms and fat fingers made the task difficult, but to augment her looks she started wearing bustier tops which put her very generous breasts on display.  Most prominent of all was her gut, the thing which gave her a positively exaggerated pear shape.  It hung out far over her belt, soft, thick and wide, with a fold in the middle that disappeared when she fed, and did she ever feed.</p>
<p>Despite her weight she still retained most of her supernatural strength and agility, enabling her to move about in her club as well as catch a few smaller meals outside, and despite her size, her supernatural charm never faded, still drawing in admirers.  A few more sugary snacks appeared on the club's menu, but in the end, nobody ever suspected a thing.  After all, whoever heard of a fat vampire?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Questionable Ethics (wg, ssbbw)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Ah, welcome, welcome!  I'm so glad to finally meet you!  I'm Doctor Nilsson, the chief medical officer of this facility.  Unless I'm mistaken you're one of our top donors, are you not?  We're very grateful.  Hopefully security wasn't too much of a problem coming in.  Ah, excellent.  Rest assured that your identity is safe down here.  We do understand the necessity of discretion, after all.  Follow me.  I'll show you where your money has been going.</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>This is Subject 119's chamber.  For simplicity of processing and organization we number them as they arrive.  Their names are irrelevant, and even though our employees are professional enough to not grow attached to them, it's best not to take chances.  119 is one of our control subjects; we feed her and her batch seven meals a day from the tube you see at the top of the room, each meal about five thousand calories.  She's only been here fifteen days but you can see that she's made significant progress.</p>
<p>Now if you'll look in this chamber here you'll see 723, also one of our control subjects, who has been here approximately five months.  You'll note that she is completely immobilized by her own weight.  While there is no ceiling to their weight, per se, the rate of growth tapers off significantly after a certain point.  This point varies due to metabolism and biology, but you can expect most control subjects to hover around this scale.</p>
<p>...hm?  Oh, all our subjects have their numbers tattooed above their navel and on either shoulder.  Hers was simply obscured by the rolls in her stomach.  Shall we move on?</p>
<p>...</p>
<p>One attempt to breach this point involved using food additives to improve the rate of absorption of sugars and starches, the logic being that more absorption would result in greater sizes.  You can see Subject 488 here... yes, she is quite large, nearly the size of 723.  She was rather, ah, petite when she first arrived, but barring physiological differences they're roughly on par with each other.  The only difference is that she has been here a mere eighty-seven days, less than half that of 723.  Promising, to be sure, but no long-term results came of it, even after six months; getting to this point comes faster, but exceeding it is just as slow.  Now if you'll follow me, please.</p>
<p>It was Doctor Hyams who suggested that the issue was a genetic one.  I would like to say that it was as simple as flipping a switch, but retroviral engineering is barely ever such.  It took quite a few tests before it worked, though the effort was worth it.  You can see Subject 256 here, having undergone the first stages of the process and being fed as we speak.  Now, observe her closely for a minute.</p>
<p>You see the change?  Her metabolism has been accelerated to the point where she is visibly growing fatter as she feeds.  Of course the caloric content of her food has been increased, but that this is at all possible is remarkable.  Of course, if you look in through here you can can see what happens after two weeks of this.</p>
<p>Yes, all of that is Subject 338.  She is currently over thirty-four hundred kilograms and still gaining, and remarkably healthy, considering.  She is by no means our largest, however; that award goes to 941.  Or rather, "went."  She nearly outgrew her chamber and, in the interests of seeing just how much larger she could get, underwent metabolic reversion therapy to return her to an exaggerated but... shall we say, more mobile state so she could be moved to a specially-made room.  Yes, she's right over there if you wanted to take a look.</p>
<p>...oh?  Yes, we've noticed.  Over the course of the therapy she began to grow agitated, so we laced her food with sedatives and mood stabilizers to put her in a more stable mood.  Without it she simply sits in the middle of the room begging for the feeding tube.  She has, quite literally, been so fat for so long that she is uncomfortable with being able to move around on her own.  We would tell her directly that we plan to remedy this but, well, that would be unprofessional of us.  Emotional attachments are rather burdensome.</p>
<p>Would you care to stop by the cafeteria?  I believe they're serving chicken salad today.  It wouldn't be my first pick, but something about the atmosphere of this place makes people rather health-conscious.</p>
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